


Safelock

by Melodywing



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Askbox Fic, Failsafe, I will make a comic alongside this, Lazy Sans (Undertale), Maybe - Freeform, Papyrus (Undertale) Remembers Resets, Papyrus (Undertale)-centric, Safelock Papyrus, Safelock Sans, Sans (Undertale) Remembers Resets, There is a story, Undertale Alternate Universe, Undertale Alternate Universe - Safelock, Undertale Alternate Universes, Undertale Genocide Route, Undertale Saves and Resets, Undertale Spoilers, hopefully, somewhat short, the Failsafe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:46:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29203815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melodywing/pseuds/Melodywing
Summary: In the code of Undertale lives two brothers, both in charge of getting the player back on track should they play the same route too many times. One brother is in charge of the pacifist route, the other: genocide. It's difficult work (at least for one of them) and living in the code can get boring and lonely when there is no job to do. Thankfully, there are timelines to monitor and there's the internet; at least, as much of it as one of them was able to connect to.This is my own AU, and I'm calling on all people to participate! I have a small story to introduce our characters, but then it's all up to you guys! Ask questions, do stuff, and whatever!I am planning on making a comic to accompany this fic, and have been for a while, so hang tight and enjoy!
Relationships: Alphys & Undyne (Undertale), Alphys/Undyne (Undertale)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	1. The Monitor

A figure reclined in his chair, booted feet crossed at the ankles and propped up on the dark, wooden desk in front of him. His right gold-tipped boot tapped silently on the other beneath it, keeping tune to a soundless song nobody knew as one of the many computer screens behind their outsoles flashed at regular intervals. The ominous red light made little effect on the dark room around it, but succeeded in illuminating the creature lounging in the office chair in front of it; red glimmering and reflecting off of the shiny gold patterns on his boots and armor. Sighing, the figure leisurely uncrossed his legs and brought them off the desk. The wheels of his chair rumbled as they brought him closer to his workspace. A spandex-covered elbow brought itself to the surface formerly used as a footrest, allowing the figure the ability to rest his cheek in one hand, and bring his other to the desk. Five, gloved digits tapped aimlessly at the firm surface, the velvet red fabric of the glove doing nothing to muffle the hard knocking noises each finger produced as they drummed against the smooth wood. There was a hum and a sigh.

“This one is _really_ looking for attention, aren’t they?”

A pause, the silence only being broken by the hard drumming of his fingers. The figure was deliberating, his other hand stroking his bony, white chin. His gaze lingered on the flashing, red notification on the screen, reading the white number and message over and over until it was burnt into his mind.

“Warning! 1080 R. T: 360-O”

Should he confront this issue? It _is_ his job, after all, and he had given them all the chances one could expect from him. In addition, this notification had been blaring for far too long.

It was getting a bit cumbersome.

He thought they would get bored, as many do when they reach at least 5 R, but this one? This one was persistent. This one was seeking attention, and it appears they had been doing so for a long while.

“Well,” He stood and stretched, sighing as a series of pops echoed from his limbs and reverberated around the darkened room. He reached over his shoulder, unsheathing a long, gold, bladed weapon, and swinging it in a large arc over his head. The air in front of him split, the weapon cutting a clean hole in the fabric of time and space from which a bright, gleaming, white light emitted. Lifting his leg, he carefully slipped through the tear, the anomaly sealing itself with the click of a lock, and vision of a keyhole before fading to nothingness.

“Best not keep them waiting”


	2. The Attention Seeker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet a few others . . .

The light reflected off of the spinning, metallic sheen of a knife as it rotated vertically in the air; its grip landing in the soft, light-skinned palm of a child before being flung back up into its dangerous spiral with nonchalance. The pattern continued again and again, mindlessly as the child’s footsteps clicked loudly on the white stone floor. Their surroundings were ominously quiet, each click reverberating off of the monochromatic cityscape that the walkway overlooked. A small rustle of leaves and the crumbling of stone followed the click of the child’s hiking boots every few seconds, the two noises being the only indication of life in the grey expanse of skyscrapers.

The bustling, foot-traffic cluttered streets of New Home now stood empty, shops abandoned and buildings vacated as if an apocalypse had struck. The only constant were the walls of the buildings that stood, solemnly watching over the evacuated city with flickering glass eyes. A mist shrouded the city’s walkways in white, the tiny, sand-like particles within sticking and making claim to all they made contact with. Small piles of the stuff accumulated on specific, almost random streets throughout the city, being buffeted by the stagnant wind of the environment in which they resided; some topped by or within articles of clothing. There were khakis, jeans, jackets, sweaters, dresses, and school uniforms littered the shoe-scuffed paths in a variety of colors and patterns with one exception: that being the variety of smaller articles that were only patterned with stripes.

The silence was deafening. The silence was all-encompassing. The silence was smothering. The silence . . .

Finally allowed her to think clearly.

It was perfect, and her face held a lopsided smirk as the knife landed and spun, landed and spun, landed and spun.

She knew who was next. She had run through this scenario many times over, after all, and they only became faster and less worrying over time. In fact, she felt that this run was her best, yet, but she didn’t really care about breaking records. She knew there was more to this. She knew she could find something new. She had experienced differences in her interactions with the other people who resided here all throughout her many, repeated adventures; nothing significantly life changing, but different nonetheless.

“Chara,” The clicking stopped, the ground ahead of her cracking open to allow a small, 7-petaled sunflower to breach the surface. The pistil of the flower was instead replaced with a fuzzy, white surface upon which blinked two worried, black, seed-like eyes. Its mouth sat beneath the two opticals on the same, fluffy surface, and curved downward in hesitant distaste. It opened, revealing an upper and lower set of human-like teeth, two sharpened fangs replacing the usual canines on the top row.

“Why are you doing this? Weren’t ten runs _enough_?” It inquired, voice squeaky and high like the cry of a small kitten. It continued, “I just don’t understand what you’re trying to do, here. We’ve taken this route so many times with so little changes. Don’t you feel like it’s time to stop? See what else there is to do?”

The small girl giggled, her tone smooth and childlike, but smattered with dark, breathy undertones. When she spoke, her voice held a malicious glee unfit for a young girl at her age.

“Oh, _Flowey_ , you know what I’m looking for; why I’m doing this. Weren’t you ever curious about what you could discover if you continued to peel back the layers of this world? What you would find if you ran through a fourth or fifth iteration?” Her eyes glinted, pupils locking onto the plant, and smirk pushing her rosy cheeks up into a far too wide, empty, glassy-eyed grin. She moved the hand holding the knife to touch the tip of the blade to her other pointer finger to add to her expression before moving both hands to clasp the grip of the weapon behind her back, returning her focus to her goal, and stepping around the flower, each step causing her to bounce childishly.

“You’ve _seen_ everything! There _is_ nothing else!” She ignored his whine, eyes locked on the wall at the end of the overlook as she took a few more steps, eyes half-lidded and smile far too wide.

“So, you’re planning on going through again? Running me through with your knife and starting over as if this all never happened?” She halted, pausing quickly and standing like a statue. Her messy, dark-chocolate bob settling and waving with the nearly unnoticeable city breeze. She breathed slowly, chest rising and falling in an almost calculated fashion.

“I’m supposed to just beg for my life, and you expect me to stand there and just go along with it like a performer in a show?” Without any warning, she was in his face, again, knife pointed at the stem beneath his petals, and blade pointed up to his ‘chin’. His lip quivered, mouth agape as he was forced to stare the child directly in her widened eyes; their once brown color distorted into a shining, dangerous red, and once relaxed expression shifted to one of manic glee.

“ **We all have our parts to play, but I’m not afraid of going off-script. That is, of course, only if you so _wish_** ,” She remarked, voice a deathly calm invitation.

Flowey felt sweat accumulate above his ‘brow’ and trickle down the side of his face, leaving a trail of damp fuzz in its wake. His breaths were shallow, mouth dry as he struggled to reign in his reason. When he had first seen the child in front of him, she was blind, eyes perpetually closed and body weak and frail. He thought her a perfect target, at first; fooling her into trusting him, quickly before crushing that trust with one foul swoop. Unfortunately, she survived that encounter, but he quickly realized that her survival was advantageous for him. The next run, when the world restarted, she decided to see what would happen if she was not so merciful to the citizens under the mountain in which she had fallen. When the world restarted once more, he began to notice changes in her. At first, it was a small thing, like giggling at citizens she had killed or changing what she said in certain situations, but over time things escalated. She began to grow more confident, but slowly turned toward more violent means of achieving her goals until mercy completely lost its appeal; a very swift process and the one that kicked off many, more extreme changes. He would never have imagined that he could be afraid of the weak child that fell into his domain what felt like all too long ago, but what he felt at this moment proved him wrong. It was not fear: it went even further, and as he swallowed the lump in his non-existent throat, soul pounding at his chest, he made a realization.

Carefully bowing his stem to stare at the ground, he avoided her eyes as he groveled in submission.

“I’m s-sorry, Chara. I-it won’t happen again.”

There was a moment of silence before the girl lowered herself in a crouch and moved the knife away from his ‘throat’, reaching her empty hand out to pet the back of his ‘head’.

“Good. I’m proud of you, _partner_ ,” her threatening tone diminished for a moment, instead becoming somewhat mocking and a tone meant to spark humiliation: a task at which it was succeeding, greatly. She sat back on her haunches in a deep standing crouch and hummed.

“Now,” she said, rising to a normal standing position.

“ _ **Go do your job**_.” She commanded in a more irritated tone, pointing the tip of her knife toward him as a warning.

He swallowed again, and still averting his eyes, responded in the affirmative and with a nod before quickly sinking back into the hole he emerged from, and out of sight. She stared aimlessly at the hole in the stone for a few moments - perhaps to make sure he did not re-emerge - before allowing her grin to stretch back to its unnatural state, turning, and continuing down the hall; knife flipping in the air, once more.

When she got to the end of the walkway, she immediately swiveled right, stepping through a large arched doorway and into the golden room beyond. Back in the monochrome city, silence reigned again.


End file.
